Here
by sarahxxxlovey
Summary: I knew that here, was a very nice place to be. RW/HG. Oneshot. Very Fluffy!


_I have always been powerless when it came to Ron. Anything that he wants, I can't help but give to him. When he smiles, all my walls come tumbling down. Even though he could make me more mad then anyone I have ever known in my whole entire life, when he needed my help, I can't resist, no matter how hard I try._

_It isn't the same way with Harry. I can easily turn him down if I feel like I really need to. It isn't like I don't love him, because I do, like I would love my brother if I ever had one. I don't fight with Harry. I can only remember one time that I have ever actually fought with him in the whole time that we have known each other. _

_And I can't even pretend around them, because I know that they can see right through my façade. I can't lie to Harry, or Ron, anymore. _

_So as much as I ca, as often as I can, as realistically as I can, I put a smile on my face. It was obviously fake, and if anyone besides Harry and Ron had seen it, they would have known it too._

_But I pretend it's fun. Just so we'll make it through. Because it's the only way that we're going to survive this horrible mess that we have been put through these past years. I wonder what I've done to get myself into this chaos. _

_My heart has broken so many times over Ron. I usually decide days later that it was all worth it. Because in the end, after everything was over, after we had fought and screamed our heads off at each other, we always ended up closer then we had been before we had fought. And for that, I'm very thankful._

_But every time I see Harry with Ginny, I can't help but feel like I'm inferior to the redheaded beauty. Mind you, I don't like Harry in that way, but the fact that they were so obviously perfect for each other gets to my head every once in a while._

_Ginny and I aren't complete opposites. We're both loud, argumentative, almost a little contentious sometimes. We have both seen far too much for anyone our age, and we have both lost people that were dear to us._

_But we're so incredibly different. Ginny's hair is long and straight and silky and shiny and a color that no one else in all of Hogwarts had. My own, on the other hand, is curly and medium length and dull and it seemed that everyone at Hogwarts had the same color hair I have. I'm short while Ginny got the Weasley genes and is a good three inches taller then me._

_Ginny loves Quidditch; I hate it. I love school; Ginny would rather be taking a walk around the lake or talking with friends. Ginny has six older brothers; I'm an only child. Ginny is amazing with kids; I'm a little clueless. I could probably go on forever finding differences between the two of us. _

_When I see them together, it hurts my heart more then I can understand or comprehend. When I see them hold each other, my heart breaks. Every time I see them kiss, it breaks my heart even more. Because I know that I won't ever have something as special, something as passionate and romantic as the two of them have. _

I laughed silently as I set the book down on the blanket near to my hands. My head was on Ron's lap as we sat under the shade on a tree, overlooking Harry, Ginny, George, and Bill play in the makeshift Quidditch pitch. A light breeze floated through the air, sending the smell of freshly cut grass and summer through the air.

I looked up at his face. His blue eyes were hidden behind his eyelids as he relaxed. I hadn't seen him look this peaceful since maybe a whole year ago. As his hands lazily stayed in my hair, stroking gently every couple of moments, I thought about what I had read in my diary only seconds before.

If you had told me four months ago that we were going to be okay, I probably would've gone hysteric on you. Because as of four months ago, the final battle had just finished. It was right after we had lost Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin, and countless others.

If you had told me three months ago that my parents were going to forgive me, I would've laughed in your face. Because three months ago, my parents and I had just come home from Australia. It was right after the war had ended, and they were a little teed off that I had spent a year with two boys, alone in a tent and that I didn't have the guts to tell them.

If you had told me two months ago that Ron and me were going to be so close, I wouldn't have believed you. Because two months ago, Ron was shut up in his room, like George had been, not letting anyone come in or out, barely eating anything, and not speaking to anyone except to tell them to go away.

If you had told me a month ago that things were going to be okay eventually, I would've hugged you. And if you did tell me, then I did hug you. Because if you did say that, you were right, and you gave me the hope.

Those words were the first words that Ron had spoken to me in three months.

I was sitting on the couch cushions in the sitting room, and he had come and given me a hug, pulling me tight against him, and had whispered in my ear, "We're going to be alright."

And we mended each other. I spend every waking second in the company of Ron and Harry and Ginny, who had gotten back together without even saying anything about it; I guess they just sort of knew.

So however we did it, we got here, wherever here was. I just here is just where we are now. Here is just this place where everything is okay again, and where nothing that we've done in the past matters anymore and the only thing that matters is where we are right now.

I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt a soft kiss being planted on my forehead.

"I love you." He whispered in my ear.

I'm never going to get tired of hearing him say that. The words sound so natural coming out of Ron's mouth that it takes my breath away almost about every time I hear him say it.

"_I_ love you." He repeated, and kissed my cheek.

"I _love_ you." He kissed my nose.

"I love _you._" And I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned up to him, our lips meeting as his kissed me back, softly and gently, with the heat growing every second the kiss lasted. My heart skipped a few beats, before rushing into overtime, frantically pounding against my ribs and leaving me senseless. His lips moved against mine, molding us together.

He chuckled after he pulled away slowly, giving me one last lingering kiss. He can tell just by listening to my breathing how I'm feeling, and I could tell that he knew exactly how I was feeling that very second.

"You've certainly been doing a lot of kissing lately, Miss Granger," he teased.

"It must be the heat!" I swooned dramatically, before bursting out into laughter.

"The heat of the summer? Or is something, or _someone,_" he winked, "heating you up?" he smirked at me before wrapping me up in his arms and pulling me into his lap. I knew immediately that it was most definitely him that was heating me up.

"Hmm, it could possibly be the latter," I replied before snuggling up against him, suddenly feeling very chilled, "but I don't think I'll ever know for sure." He laughed.

"I didn't see you so unsure last night," he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear and sending delightful shivers down my spine. I could feel myself growing bright red at the memory of all the things that had happened last night in his room.

"Prat," I whispered back. He chuckled once again.

"Don't even pretend like you don't love it."

"Oh, don't worry honey, I wont." I kissed his cheek before resting my head back on his chest, curling under and into his arms. I looked up at the bright blue sky, out into the field where some of my best friends were playing, down onto the creaky, unstable, old house, and I knew, that here was a very nice place to be.


End file.
